Grimbeau

Scroodles

Deuterium Climes

Grimbeau

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Rain, sultry rain.

Opaque grapes,

leaden sky fruit,

burst on copious,

oil dark

plush olive,

swooning,

spaded,

luscious leaves.

Three chirrup

kaleidoscope toucans

tenderly engage

a dopey puffin then

hunker down within

the livid dense canopy

to share a light

repast of slender wafers

over a convivial round

of knock out whist.

Tuesdays,

no matter the weather,

is Housey-Housey,

a rainforest favourite

throughout the ages.

Beastlings from yards

Around always

Attend

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Housework

Grimbeau

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Lunch upon

time used

every second

fecund

Sporting matching

bonnet and black, baggy

jumper.

Sweaty, seedy boxers,

and fresh Homer slippers.

Ready for inaction.

Frost

promised,

don elastic

cotton vambrace,

the day begins.

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Runcible Spoon

Grimbeau

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Those

Who stir

&

Runaway

Return to

Stir

Another

Day

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Spoonless in Sparta

Grimbeau

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Where was the spoon?

The Spoon – the fucking spoon!

Water was running,

Loud and constant

running water

You left the fucking tap on!

He could just make out the familiar, nasal tone.

My eyelash is awash with milk suds

Not quite a froth

Clambering from the cereal bowl

Was arduous hard

Like pond weed

And gypsy tart

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